


Transformation

by AngelofDarkness1605



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 11:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3976930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofDarkness1605/pseuds/AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When vacationing abroad, Belle visits the strangest of places and meets the most fascinating of men.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transformation

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by a visit to Christiania.

Belle heaves a sigh of relief when she reaches the top of the deserted rampart, gratefully breathing in the fresh air. No matter how much the area behind her intrigues her, she is happy to be away from there for a while, clearing her head.

When her senses have somewhat recovered from experiencing the neighborhood for a few minutes, she surveys her current surroundings. She spots a large stone in the shadow of a tree and sits down there, turning to face the crowded streets below her.

From her new vantage point, she studies the area that she just walked through. It doesn't surprise her that Ruby isn't in sight any longer. No matter how much she likes her friend, Belle doesn't mind in the slightest to be alone for a while.

Indeed, she's thankful that Ruby didn't insist she accompanied her to the most infamous street of the neighborhood. Just walking through the adjoining streets has made Belle dizzy with the heavy smell of cannabis.

But a gentle sea breeze ensures that the air is clear here, giving her the perfect opportunity to study the elaborate graffiti murals, the maze of narrow, neglected streets, creatively built houses and, more than anything, the great variety of people strolling through the highly unusual neighborhood below.

"Looking for a hiding spot, dearie?"

Belle yelps and turns towards the person who appears to be talking to her, shocked that she isn't nearly as alone on the rampart as she thought.

She doesn't spot the owner of the male voice immediately, but after a few seconds she becomes aware of a shape among the shadows a few meters away, right at the foot of an overgrown wall at the edge of the rampart.

Her eyes adjusting slowly to the lack of sunlight there, Belle finds that there's a man sitting on a stone similar to the one she's currently seated on. She can't see much of him in the dim light, only that he appears to have long hair and isn't nearly as tall as she would have presumed based on the low sound of his voice.

"Afraid of the uncivilized people below?" he asks, his tone mocking.

"I'm not, thank you very much," she says, squaring her shoulders while she answers both his questions simultaneously without particularly caring he's aware of that. "Those people have shown better manners than you just did, startling me like that."

Rather than answering her, he only shrugs. Her eyes further adjusting to the darkness he's sitting in, Belle takes in his worn jeans and leather jacket, the thick stubble on his jaws and chin.

Sensing that she has nothing to fear from him and deciding that she'd rather be here with this man than go back into the neighborhood below already, she makes herself comfortable and takes her travel guide, pen and notebook from her bag.

"I'm afraid this place only offers solace for a single person, dearie."

"If you want solace, I suggest you to shut up. You're the one disturbing the quiet," she replies, not bothering to look up.

" _You_ are the one who disturbs the peace, storming up here with your little books."

"If my presence or my books bother you, you are free to go elsewhere."

"I was here first," he objects, a strange sing-song quality to his voice. " _You_  should go."

Not for a moment forgetting that she is alone in a foreign country with a stranger opposite her, she looks up after all, considering him. Despite his apparent annoyance with her, he hasn't moved an inch to force her to get away from him and reclaim the quiet spot all for himself.

Indeed, he is quite intent on engaging her for a man who implies that he wants to be left alone.

"I don't think you want me to go. I think you want me to stay, because you enjoy talking to me."

"I think you're doing too much thinking," he shoots back. She can't tell whether his tone is pleased or whether that's only in her imagination.

"I think you want to talk to me because you are lonely."

Belle didn't mean to say that – or rather, she didn't mean to say it out loud, not like this. But there was almost no way of  _not_ saying it, not with him sitting here all alone, literally hidden in shadows, all but baiting for her attention.

"As I said, you think too much," he replies, not nearly as eager as before.

He demonstratively turns his back towards her, picking up something that was previously lying next to him. Without meaning to, she clearly hit a nerve.

"Suit yourself," she mutters, somewhat disappointed and slightly hurt that he doesn't seem to want to talk to her anymore.

Writing down Ruby's and her own adventures of the day in her travel log isn't nearly as appealing as it was earlier, the quiet she enjoyed so much before spotting this strange man not quite as enjoyable.

Pretending to write, she looks at him from beneath the curtain of her hair. He is doing something, his hands moving somewhere above his knee, but the shadow that still covers him entirely prevents her from seeing what he's actually doing.

Her pen hovering uselessly above the paper and her gaze focused solely on him, Belle notices immediately when his fingers still and he glances in her direction, betraying his continued interest.

Having forgotten about the writing supplies she's still holding, they slip from her fingers when she stands up and approaches him.

"I'm Belle," she says, extending her hand to him.

He doesn't react for a long moment, then reaches for the stick next to him. She doesn't understand until he leans on it when he gets up with some difficulty. She didn't expect the stick to be a walking aid, just like she wouldn't have thought that he'd be barely taller than her when standing.

"You can call me Gold, if you must," he replies, reaching for her hand after hesitating briefly.

His tone is not nearly as harsh as his words. His handshake is firm, but not too much so, despite his reluctance.

"Very nice to meet you," she says, enthusiastically shaking his hand.

The man she now knows by the name of Gold doesn't say anything in return, but that doesn't surprise or deter Belle. She's met a lot of people since Ruby and she left Storybrooke for their holiday, but none of them as interesting as this man.

With him still standing in the shadow and her looking into the sun, she still can't nearly see him as well as she would like. His accent alone, just as foreign as her own, is more than enough to have her intrigued.

"I'm from Storybrooke, Maine. Where are you from?"

"From a place where people don't believe that there are really women named Belle who come from a place called Storybrooke, Maine," he replies gruffly.

She huffs, but isn't deterred, having become only more curious about the not exactly sociable man.

"What were you doing?" she asks next, looking at the thing she had seen him working on before he put it down to shake her hand.

"I was making my living."

He sighs when she expectantly looks at him, picking up his work to show it to her.

It turns out to be a half-made bracelet weaved in vibrant colors, tied to some sort of wooden frame to hold the yarn in place.

"This is gorgeous! I've never seen anything like it."

"It brings food to the table," he says, shrugging.

"They better do!" she exclaims, struck by his casual dismissal of his obvious talent.

She's delighted by the intricate pattern, by the notion that this initially so harsh man can make such beautiful things without finding any pride in it.

"There's more of them," he says with a hint of not entirely concealed anticipation, as if he despite himself  _hopes_  that she'll be interested in those bracelets as well.

"I'd love to see them," she says, watching him eagerly as he heads for a small box standing next to where he was sitting, leaning on his cane with every step he takes.

Curious eyes focused on the simple wooden box, she gasps when he brings it back and opens it to her. Inside are dozens of completed bracelets of the type he just showed her, each of them unique in their pattern and bright colors. Even in the shadow, they are almost fluorescent.

"Can I see them in the light?" she asks, wondering what they might be like when seen in proper daylight.

"If you must," he replies with apparent disinterest, but he follows her regardless.

Like she expected, the bracelets are yet more beautiful in the bright sunlight, almost looking like they are made with magic rather than earthly thread.

That's not what takes her aback though. Now that Belle properly sees Gold for the first time now that he's no longer standing in the shadows, she finds that the bracelets aren't the only gorgeous entity in the vicinity.

Beneath his rough stubble, his face is tanned and sharp. His jaw is strong, his nose large and slightly crooked, and his eyes are of the most gentle shade of brown she has ever seen. There are lines around his mouth and eyes and there is silver in his hair, but he looks younger than she would have expected earlier.

All things considered – even his manners, or lack thereof – he's by far the most interesting  _and_ most handsome man she's ever met.

"Would you like to have one?" he asks, gesturing at the bracelets. To her relief, he doesn't appear to be aware of the inappropriate path along which her thoughts just wandered.

"I'd love to, yes!" she cries out, not having fully realized yet that he sells them and that she can thus acquire at least one of the beautiful items for herself. "How much are they?"

"You can have one for free, if you allow me to tie a bracelet of your choice around your wrist. It'll take ten minutes at most."

There's something in his eyes that gives her the distinct impression that he expects her to refuse, as if he is convinced that she doesn't want him anywhere near her, but Belle is thrilled by the prospect. More than the idea of getting a bracelet, one made just for her, it's the notion of spending more time with him that appeals to her the most.

"That sounds wonderful! Is it all right with you to do it right now? I'm waiting for a friend, actually, and I don't know when she'll be... done," Belle says, gesturing meaningfully at the streets below. "But I expect she definitely won't be back in ten minutes."

"I'll get started right away, if you wish," he says, half-bowing in a way that's part mockery and part something that could be chivalry. "Although it's first up to you to choose the colors of your preference."

"How many can I choose?" she asks in delight when he shoves the finished bracelets aside in the box, revealing countless threads of just about every color imaginable below.

"You can pick as many colors as you like."

It seems an impossible feat to select a remotely limited number of colors. Still, when she takes a proper look at all the threads, there are two colors that capture her particular attention.

"I like those two," she says, pointing at an especially lovely blue shade and a yellow one that's almost gold in the sunlight.

"The blue matches your eyes," he says quietly, looking from her face to the thread and back again.

"Does it?"

"It does," he says with conviction, the focus with which he looks at her making her tremble pleasantly. "They are a stunning color, if I may say so."

"Thank you," Belle replies, blushing slightly.

"Your wrist, if you please," he says, not quite looking at her when he takes the two threads of her choosing and extends his hand to her in invitation.

Gold seems for some reason almost shy at this point. Something deep inside of her flutters in response to his lowered gaze and questioning voice.

"If I tie the bracelet directly around your wrist, we can be certain that it fits you perfectly," he explains when he loosely connects the edges of both the threads around her left wrist. "It also makes my work easier if the threads are attached to something. Now, is there a pattern which you prefer?"

Looking back at the dozens of examples in the box, Belle finds a pattern with two colors which is simple but delicate in a way she immediately loves.

"That one," she says, pointing at the bracelet which caught her attention.

"Excellent," he says. "Now I suggest you to sit down so you are comfortable while I work."

She does as he suggests, sitting down on the rampart overlooking the neighborhood below them. Gold settles himself opposite her, going to work without further ado.

Belle watches him eagerly, mesmerized by the way his hands move so fast that both his fingers and the threads between them are barely more than a blur. His focus is solely on his work and it seems like some sort of calmness comes over him when he expertly ties the threads.

"Can I ask how you ended up here?" she asks quietly, more than anything only more curious about Gold than she already was.

"I just did," he says, shrugging without looking up from his work. "This place seemed as good as any."

It's not quite the level of detail she hoped for, but at least he just unknowingly confirmed that he hasn't lived here all his life, something else which she was wondering about.

"What was your life like, before?"

"A whole lot more pleasant than it was right now, without noisy tourists asking me pointless questions."

The playfulness of his voice belies the harshness of his words and Belle smiles in amusement.

She isn't smiling any longer though when he reaches out for her and slightly adjusts the angle of her wrist, making his work easier – and causing her to tremble at the jolt that shoots through her when he touches her for the first time.

"I don't think you belong here, or at least, not entirely," she finds herself thinking out loud. "Please don't get me wrong, I won't pretend to understand or know any of the people here, let alone you, but... it seems to me that the other people I met want to be  _here_. You, on the other hand... it feels to me like you just don't want to be anywhere else."

Gold is quiet for a long time, tying with silent determination. But before Belle has to conclude that she has gone too far, he speaks again after all.

"There was... there was a son. A long time ago. I lost him."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," she breathes, horrified. "My deepest condolences."

"I couldn't... I couldn't accept it. I couldn't move on... couldn't stay in the life that I had, the life that he wasn't part of any longer. There was alcohol, and lots of it. I... I drifted. I can't remember much about those years. When I ended up here, I didn't mean to stay here, but... well, obviously, I did. I got sober eventually and I've been staying here ever since, mostly keeping to myself."

"I'm glad you aren't keeping to yourself right now."

"So am I," he says, so quietly that she can barely hear.

"Thank you for sharing your story with me."

"At least you have to do me the courtesy now of telling me yours."

"I would have told you anyway, if you wish to hear it."

"I didn't dare to count on it," he admits, his eyes remaining solely on his work.

"My mother died when I was little and my father took me from Australia to the United States to start a new life. There isn't much to tell other than that. I love to read; I work in the local public library. I've always wanted to travel and see the world, so when my friend Ruby and I had saved enough money we bought ourselves a ticket and got onto a plane."

"For how long are you staying in the city?"

"We're flying back to Boston tomorrow," she says, a sudden sadness coming over her. She's quite certain that, for some reason, the same sorrow is evoked within him.

"I see," he says, his voice tighter than it was before. "But at least you won't be leaving empty-handed... or empty-wristed, I suppose."

Following his gaze, she becomes aware only then that his work has been completed as he ties both ends of the bracelet carefully around her wrist. Belle gasps in delight when she examines his work, the adornment brilliant like the sun and bright like the sky on a cloudless day in summer, its colors contrasting rather beautifully with her ever so pale skin... and matching her eyes, apparently.

"It's  _gorgeous_ ," she enthuses, not only referring to the bracelet when she looks back up at him, finding his expression softer than she's seen it since meeting him. "Thank you so much. It's wonderful to have something to remember you by, other than the memories themselves."

"A beautiful trinket for a beautiful woman," he says, looking her directly in the eyes this time.

Her breath hitches in her throat and her heart leaps, especially when he tentatively takes her hand and brings it to his lips, reverently kissing her knuckles.

"I hope you'll find what you're looking for," she breathes, his life story not forgotten even as the feeling of his breath and lips on her skin makes her feel lightheaded.

Feeling strangely courageous, she reaches for him, brushing her fingertips along his cheek, through the thick stubble on it. She can't hold back a moan when he leans in to her touch, kissing the inside of her palm.

"Perhaps I already have," he says, his voice grit and velvet.

He looks up at her with heat in his gaze that has something clenching deep inside of her, with something that's a promise and an invitation all at once.

She has never understood Ruby whenever her friend tried to explain her often spontaneous desire to... well, to  _jump_ a man for the lack of a better word. But now that Gold is looking at her like he wants to  _devour_ her, Belle is rather certain that she does.

They lean in to one another simultaneously and without hesitation, sharing one more longing glance before he slants his lips over hers, his hands coming around her back. The pressure of his mouth against hers is firm, almost demanding, and she meets him with equal vigor.

That's why he completely takes her aback after only a moment, when he withdraws from her without warning while she has barely processed the fact that she is kissing the man who she feels so strongly attracted to, let alone the way his lips feel against hers.

Gold's look is not nearly as hard as she presumes he wants it to be, his eyes almost challenging. Starting, Belle realizes that he is trying to warn her, perhaps even trying to scare her away, for some reason intending her to walk away from her feelings for him, whatever they might be... to walk away from  _him_.

"I want you," she whispers, trying to make sense of all the unfamiliar sensations within her when she reaches for him again.

"I want you too, but..."

"I  _want_ you."

"Tell me to stop, and I wi..."

She doesn't give him the chance to finish that sentence, the growled words making only clearer to her that she  _needs_ him, like she couldn't have imagined needing anything or anyone before meeting him.

And yet, there is nothing but slowness and gentleness in their kiss when their lips meet again. Gold lets her set the pace and determine the angle, seemingly bending to her every will while he caresses her sides with featherlight touches. The kiss is deeper than she thought a kiss could be, the taste of him utterly intoxicating her as she clings to him, the feeling of his thick stubble scratching her skin only adding to her desire.

Her eyes tightly shut and her hands fisting blindly in his hair, she marvels how  _easy_ this is, that she experiences none of the awkwardness or discomfort she might have expected when surrendering herself to this sudden want, to  _him_. With Gold, she knows exactly what to do, happily allowing herself to spiral higher and higher.

He moves without breaking the kiss, but she's only aware that he has knelt down in front of her when he questioningly spreads her knees. Belle hikes up the hem of her dress without second thought, accommodating him to settle himself between her legs while she remains seated.

Their newfound closeness allows her to feel every inch of him, telling her that he wants her just as much as she wants him. It makes her only more determined to experience this all the way to the end.

She's far beyond recalling that she never imagined herself to kiss a practical stranger, especially not like  _this_ , let alone share a lot more than kisses with him right below the bright blue sky.

But that doesn't matter in the slightest when Belle instinctively pulls at his leather jacket to get it off him, when his hands make their way underneath her dress, kneading her upper thighs. The vague awareness that their current location may be outdoor and technically in public but is reasonably reclusive is all she needs to grab his buttocks, pulling him meaningfully against her.

He  _growls_ into her mouth, helping her to get his jacket off him. Guiding her head to his shoulder so she can kiss his neck rather than his mouth for the time being, he spreads the jacket on the ground right next to them.

Gold moves her legs around his waist and moves his hands underneath her thighs, easily lifting her off the stone as he continues to kneel in front of her. Before she can seek his lips once more, he gives her a  _look_  that has her quivering, yet more heat spreading through her.

Belle nods breathlessly in confirmation to his unspoken question, knowing that he, too, wants to make love right here and now... and that they  _will_.

" _Belle!"_

Despite the insistent sound of it, Ruby's voice only slowly registers in Belle's mind. Sensing the interruption sooner than she does, Gold abruptly breaks away from her.

"Found you at last!" her friend cries out triumphantly.

She looks around, spotting Ruby making her way up on the steps leading up to the rampart, swaying slightly as she looks at Belle with rather unfocused eyes.

"Belle is making out with a hobo!" Ruby yells to no one in particular, her choice of words horrifying her yet more than the volume of her friend's voice. "Now I  _definitely_ know I'm stoned as hell."

"Ruby!" she hisses, Gold's unease almost palpable when he abruptly deposits her back onto the stone where she previously sat.

"It's okay, hon," the other woman giggles. "I've been telling you for  _ages_ just to get laid to get over your ex."

"It's not like that," Belle says tightly, although she can't quite define what it  _is_ like. She supposes that she wouldn't have been able to even if her head hadn't been swimming with desire for Gold and the heady arousal they just shared.

He abruptly gets up, moving away from her to gather his supplies.

"Wait!" Belle cries out, ignoring Ruby in favor of attempting to prevent him from walking away from her, out of her life. "Please, just... at least tell me how I can get in touch with you!"

His only response is to walk faster, not looking back when he distances himself from her. Tears welling in her eyes, she desperately tries to think of something to say, something to  _do_ to make certain that what they just shared will be more than an unlikely dream.

Not questioning the instinct to run after him when he makes his way down the chairs on the rampart, heading back to the crowded streets below, Belle kicks off her heels to have a chance to catch up with him.

But right when she's about to sprint after him, Ruby grasps her arm with surprising strength, holding her back.

"Look, Belle!" her friend exclaims, pointing at something behind them. Intuitively, she follows Ruby's gaze and finger, looking for a moment away from Gold as he mixes with the people in the street. "There is that church tower you want to climb... the one from that book you kept talking about. Let's check it out right now! It should be great, being so...  _high_."

Ruby giggles at her own joke, but Belle barely notices. Her eyes frantically searching for Gold in the crowds below, she couldn't care less any longer about the church tower appearing in Jules Verne's  _A Journey to the Center of the Earth._

"Come  _on_ , Belle. Going up there will be fun! It'll be like  _flying_. Never mind that old guy. You probably won't like him anymore once you come down from your high, if he was real at all. Trust me, I know these things."

"I haven't been using any drugs," Belle says tensely, her eyes still solely on the people below.

"Of course you haven't," Ruby says happily. "It's not like you need to do anything more here than breathe in the air to get high."

For one moment, one horrible moment, Belle wonders whether she could have indeed hallucinated everything what just happened, that she somehow made up both the wonderful man called Gold and her unequaled attraction to him. It would almost –  _almost –_  be a relief.

But then she is reminded of the bracelet. Looking at her wrist, it is indeed there, just as real and beautiful as she initially thought it was.

Gold, however, is still nowhere to be seen.

~

Belle toys absentmindedly with the bracelet on her wrist, staring off into the distance. She's been doing that quite frequently in the months since she returned to Storybrooke, her mind drifting back again and again to that chance encounter on the other side of the world with the man who called himself Gold.

Sighing, she continues to shelf books, slowly making her way along the aisles of her library. It's high time to stop wondering whether it would be feasible to return to the place where she experienced probably the most wonderful moment of her life, to continue her search for the man who she fell in love with head over heels despite having known him for only an hour or so.

Indeed, she should stop thinking that she probably won't ever know a man again who made her feel like Gold did, who looked at her and touched her the way he did, who kissed her with passion she previously had only read about... who awoke the same feelings and instincts within her.

"Belle?"

The librarian looks up to find Emma Swan heading towards her.

"What's going on, sheriff?" she asks, presuming that the other woman knows as well as she does that it's far past the library's closing time for the day.

"There's a man here who wants to see you," Emma says. "He claims to know you. He says his name is Gold and that you met him on your travels."

"Gold is  _here_?!" she whispers in disbelief, her heart leaping into her throat.

Rather than replying, Emma turns towards the entrance when another person can be heard entering the building.

"Hey, I told you to wait outside and..."

The man making his way into the library completely ignores the sheriff, his gaze instead solely on the librarian herself.

"Belle!?" he breathes questioningly.

The books she was holding fall from her hands when she takes in the man standing near the circulation desk. He is sharply dressed in what looks like a tailored three piece suit, his jaw cleanly shaved and his hair less long than she would have expected. There's a flicker of gold on the luxurious cane he leans on.

He almost couldn't look less like the man she met abroad three months ago, but there's no mistaking his identity. Besides his height and cane, his face is less tanned where his stubble used to be... and his voice is the very one that kept her from sleeping many a night.

" _Gold_ ," she whispers, her disbelief overruled by the joy of seeing him again after all, in the library of Storybrooke of all places.

There's a near endless moment of dawning realization and then the two of them move simultaneously. He hurriedly steps towards her and Belle simply breaks out in a run to be properly reunited with him.

That's how they end up nearing one another with considerable speed. She throws herself into his arms without thinking, only aware that perhaps she shouldn't have done so when the two of them hobble precariously. But then he drops his cane to the floor, wrapping both his arms around her and steadying both of them.

"Wait, you two actually know each other?!" Emma asks, sounding almost more incredulous than before.

"We do, yes," Belle replies when she still can, her nearness to Gold taking her breath away. "We'll be fine... I'll talk to you later!"

To her relief, Emma gets the hint, making her way out of the library. Before she has set two steps, Belle's attention is once more fully on the man who somehow found her here. She buries her face against the side of his neck, inhaling deeply.

His scent is somewhat different, more sophisticated, but it's still  _him_ , heady and irresistible. Before he presses his face against her hair and breathes in deeply as well, Belle already knows that he reacts similarly to her own scent.

"I thought I'd never see you again," she mutters, running her hands over his arms and back to re-familiarize herself with his form – or rather, to get to know him in a way she didn't have the chance before. "I'm so glad you're here."

"So am I," he sighs against her. "I'm so very sorry for leaving the way I did."

"Why did you go without even saying goodbye?" she asks, voicing the question that has haunted her since that very day.

"I don't entirely know myself, although I've spent considerable time thinking about it," he says, withdrawing slightly to be able to look her in the eyes. "I think it comes down to fear."

"Fear of what?" she asks, not understanding.

"Fear of the way I felt about you almost immediately... that I couldn't possibly be the man you deserve."

"Without even getting to know me?" she sniffles, her pent up emotions getting the better of her now that she's finally face to face with him again after all. "All I want is to get to know you. That, and... well, to see if there's a chance for more than that."

"That's all I could have hoped for," Gold says, his voice breaking.

He embraces her again and Belle gratefully presses her face against his chest, cherishing the way he holds her protectively. When he rests his head against the side of her neck, she can tell that she isn't the only one who is crying.

"I don't know what happened between us when we met, sweetheart. Or what might happen now that we are together again. But I want to find out. I want to do anything in my power to make this work."

" _Yes_ ," she just breathes, incapable of saying more right there and then when her dream is coming true against all odds.

If the way he tightens his hold on her and sighs deeply in relief is any indication, he has understood perfectly.

"You were right, you know, when you said that I didn't belong there," he whispers against the damp skin of her neck. "You gave me the courage to admit that... and to get back to the life I had abandoned, to the man I once had been. I just hope that I can live up to any expectations I might have created when I pretended that I hadn't fallen in love with you at first sight."

"I dare say you can," she says, swallowing when she studies him from this wonderfully close distance, marveling at the beauty of him, yet more breathtaking than the day she first saw him now that he appears to be more relaxed.

"You look just as gorgeous as the day I met you," he whispers earnestly, tentatively brushing an errant curl behind her ears.

"Thank you," she replies, her blush deepening. "You look very handsome, yourself."

For just a moment, he looks like he doesn't believe her, as if he is convinced that she couldn't possibly enjoy the way he looks. But then he smiles, which only makes him more beautiful.

His hand still at the side of her face, caressing her lightly, she mimics his gestures, sighing happily when Gold leans in to her touch.

"How did you find me?" she asks, despite the joyous circumstances not having forgotten how unlikely it is for him to show up in Storybrooke.

"It turns out that there truly is a place with the unlikely name of 'Storybrooke' in Maine... and fate has it that there really lives a princess called Belle who works in the public library."

"I'm hardly a princess," she mutters, blushing at his words.

"I beg to differ."

He takes her hand in his own, kissing her knuckles reverently like he did all those days ago, his lips lingering once more. Her heartbeat increasing considerably, Belle finds it only too easy to imagine what it might be like if he were to bestow similar attention on other parts of her body.

In fact, the only reason that she doesn't get lost in such thoughts is because he pauses when he spots the bracelet on her wrist. Its colors aren't as radiant any longer, its thread somewhat worn, but it's obviously the one that he made her when they met.

"You're still wearing it," he breathes in awe.

"Of course. I never take it off."

"I wouldn't have dared to imagine..."

He falters, but the way he tenderly kisses the inside of her wrist says more than a thousand words.

"So what now?" she manages to ask despite the heavenly sensations he sends rushing throughout her once more. "For how long can you stay? Do you  _want_ to stay?"

"I'd like to stay here as long as you like me to... or to take you wherever your heart desires."

"Are you saying that you can stay here, with me just like that?" she asks, fearing that this sounds too good to be true. "That we can  _travel_ , if we want to?"

"I am and we can, yes, if you like to. Before I lost my son, I made a substantial amount of money with several textile factories. Because of some fortunate investments, that sum had increased considerably when I... resurfaced."

"So you're saying..."

Words fail her as Belle tries to process the discovery that the man she loves isn't only wonderful in more ways than she can count, but appears to be rich as well.

"I'm saying that you can do whatever you want as soon as you're done with your work here, and that I would very much like to accompany you."

"My workday ended almost an hour ago," she says, a glance at the clock reminding her that time is in fact not standing still, the world continuing to go on around them.

"How about we go find out how this fairy tale continues?" he asks, offering her his arm.

"Let's find our happily ever after," she grins, gladly accepting it as they make their way out of the library.


End file.
